


Violetta Mondarev and the Bonfire of the Inanities

by Sturzkampf



Series: The Ordeals of Violetta Mondarev [3]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sturzkampf/pseuds/Sturzkampf
Summary: Violetta's quest continues in Milan. Surely, this time, she'll find a pretty dress.





	Violetta Mondarev and the Bonfire of the Inanities

The door of the Mechanicsburg airship terminal VIP reception lounge burst open. Moloch von Zinzer, working quietly on the luggage carousel, jumped, dropped his wrench on his toe and banged his head on the maintenance access panel. Despite, or perhaps because of, his many years working in Mechanicsburg, his nerves were in a quite shocking state.

Agatha Heterodyne strode into the room, a look of grim determination on her face. Behind her came the boyz and Zeetha, all with the enthusiastic grins that declared they were expecting imminent egregious violence. Moloch allowed himself to relax, just a bit. As far as he could tell, they weren’t coming after him, personally. Nevertheless, they were clearly here with serious intent; either to confront an enemy of the Heterodyne about to invade Mechanicsburg, or to meet some powerful visitor who Agatha did not entirely trust. When Moloch thought about it, that didn’t narrow the field down that much.

The security team took up defensive positions around the dock, but pointing outwards as, almost as though they were expecting an attack from outside. Agatha took the opportunity to stroll over and talk to her chief minion head mechanic, perhaps to sooth any painful memories that a confrontation in the airship terminal might reawaken, but more likely she was just interested in what he was doing.

“Von Zinzer! Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine, just about finished here. This thing was due for its annual service. I’ve greased all the linkages and made sure all the bolts are tight.”

“Now, you have been careful to use the correct torque wrench settings, haven’t you?” asked Agatha.

“Yes, yes.”

“It’s very important.”

“I know.”

“Remember…”

“Yes, _I know_. Careless torque costs lives. So, what’s that this all about?” He indicated her entourage.

“Oh, we’re here to meet Violetta. She’s due back on the next liner.”

‘Of course,’ thought Moloch, ‘I knew there was someone missing. Still, seems like a big reception committee. I hope she isn’t in any trouble. Perhaps she’s gone AWOL. Can’t say I’d blame her if she has’.

“Has she been away long?” he asked, hoping it would be a enough of a leading question to encourage Agatha to explain in a bit more detail.

“Oh no, she’s taken a couple of days leave. She’s been to Milan.”

“Milan?”

“Yes, to visit the House of Bigalotti, you know the famous fashion designer. She’s finally going to get a pretty dress! An entire wardrobe of pretty dresses!” Violetta’s quest – and its inevitable consequences – was becoming infamous throughout Mechanicsburg and beyond. Moloch had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and a sudden urgent imperative to be somewhere else. Vienna, perhaps.

“And she can’t buy one here in Mechanicsburg?” he asked, closing the maintenance hatch as fast as possible.

“Well, she did try you know. The first shop that accepted the commission got hit by that meteorite, destroying all their stock, including the dresses they’d made for Violetta. Then, when she tried to buy some dresses from a second shop, there was that unforeseeable freak accident with the clockwork hippopotamus and the insidious blancmange and well… after that, every clothes shop in Mechanicsburg has taken out an injunction forbidding her to come with fifty metres of their premises. She’s had to look further afield.”

“But why Milan?”

“Because Signor Bigalotti’s fashion house in Milan is renowned throughout Europa as the foremost _avant garde_ dress designer in Europa. And because the other fashion houses we approached threatened to blow any airship with Violetta’s name on the passenger manifest out of the sky if it tried to dock at their studios. Anyway, this will a great choice. I’ve seen Bigolotti’s designs and I’m absolutely positive that nothing…”

Everyone in the room froze in shock. Agatha clapped her hand over her mouth when she saw the look of horror on Moloch’s face.

“Ah… I mean, I’m absolutely positive that nothing will suit her, and all the dresses will be truly hideous and everything will be far too large anyway.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“So why all the…”

“I’m determined that there will be no more freak accidents! When she arrives, we’re here to keep her safe!”

“Why didn’t you go with her to escort her all the way there and back.”

“Um… we have tried to get her pretty dresses before you know, but there’s always been these unforeseeable freak accidents – which were totally not my fault I might add - that meant we’ve never managed to get the dresses back intact. This time, Violetta suggested that she would prefer it if I stayed at home and she went on her own. Actually, it was rather stronger than a suggestion.” Agatha blushed. “I didn’t know Violetta even knew words like that. I had to look some of them up in the dictionary. Anyway, once she’s safely back in Mechanicsburg we’ll escort her back to her quarters, where she can get changed and go to the surprise party we’ve planned for this evening and do girly things and dance with all the boys. Don’t suppose you’d like to come up and dance with her I suppose?”

“Ah… er… thanks for the offer, but I think the missus might have something to say about that.” Moloch told her, putting away the last of his tools and getting ready to make a rapid exit. He could see the elegant airship from Milan manoeuvring to dock at the mooring tower. Despite his better judgement, he hung around to watch Violetta arrive. He felt concerned for her. Not that he had any feelings for her of course, but they were both veterans of Castle Heterodyne before it had been fixed, and that created a bond that wasn’t easily broken.

The liner docked with expert precision and within minutes the passengers started to disembark. This being the first-class transport, they were without exception loud, arrogant and demanding. Fortunately, the recently well-oiled machinery of Mechanicsburg unloaded their pigskin suitcases within minutes without a scuff-mark or even the traditional baggage-handler’s footprints. This didn’t stop the braying complaints, until the boyz came over and smiled to persuade the passengers on their way. Moloch couldn’t help but notice that there was a distinct absence of any packing cases or suitcases left on the carousel. Still, he told himself, ‘Violetta won’t have checked her pretty dresses into the hold. She’ll keep them with her, for safety’s sake.’

Finally, a small figure dressed in purple walked through the entry gate from passport control. She wasn’t carrying any pretty dresses, only her small overnight bag. Agatha smiled and strode up to greet her.

“Violetta! Welcome back. Did you get the…,” she saw the all-too-familiar expression on the Smoke Knight’s face; the wide brimming eyes; the trembling lower lip. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. What happened this time?”

“It was… it was Signor Bigolotti,” said Violetta. “He made a new conceptual art installation. He took all of his pretty dresses – all of them – and burned them – in a big bonfire. And filmed himself doing it. Right in front of everyone. Including me.”

 “What?! Why?!”

“That’s what I asked him. He said that all fashion was, at its heart, inane. It symbolises the objectification of women that is the driving perpetuating component of systematic gender oppression. Pretty dresses send a negative message that the value of women in society is as mere embellishments, their role based purely on their appearance. They are the exemplification of a sex object culture which is clearly at odds with modern progressive societal norms.”

“You mean he isn’t making dresses at all anymore?”

“Oh, he has an entire new collection of exciting new designs that, rather than reinforcing narrow stereotypes based on self-objectification, create a positive, modern and non-self-referential image of women. He calls them ‘burqas’. I asked him, wouldn’t the world be better if girls wear pretty dresses and go to great big fancy parties, dance with all the boys and do girl things?”

“And what did he say to that?”

“He said ‘AAGGGGHHH!!’”

“Agh?”

“No, ‘AAGGGGHHH!!’”

“Violetta!”

“Hey, I only stabbed him a little bit. And only after he called me an unreconstructed misogynist, obsessed with self-evaluation in terms of mere appearance for the benefit of men, while a real woman would have the confidence to assert herself through her own abilities. There won’t be any permanent injuries, ‘though it’ll be a while before he can sit down comfortably again. And the dried toad extract I got from Tarlok that I put on the blade should give him plenty of inspiration for his next conceptual installation – once they let him out of the straight jacket.”

“But are you okay?” asked Agatha. Violetta straightened her shoulders, wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Who needs a pretty dress to go to parties anyway? Looking after you is a full-time job.” Agatha smiled with relief and dismissed the problem from her mind.

“That’s great! Let’s get back to the Castle. I’ve got this great new hypothesis I want to try out in the High Energy Catering Lab!”

Violetta rolled her eyes. “Like I said, a full-time job.”

Agatha left the room, Violetta shadowing her, a little behind, a little to the right. The boyz and Zeetha drifted away, disappointed that nothing interesting was going to happen after all. But Moloch von Zinzer stayed in his unnoticed corner, a frown on his face and concern in his heart. Violetta might say she was okay, but he recognised the signs of Post Heterodyne Stress Disorder when he saw them. Agatha would never even be able to grasp the concept, let alone notice that anything was wrong or do anything to solve it. Clearly, Something Had to be Done. But what could he do?


End file.
